Rainy Day (A McRoll in the REAL World Story)
by ilna
Summary: Steve and Catherine spend a rainy day at home together.


**Notes:** Mari and Sammy – Thank you for the late night/early morning reading and the votes of confidence that come exactly when I need to hear them. Love you both!

Readers and REAL McRollers – You are truly the best. Thank you for all your incredible support during the marathon and for every REAL World story. Your enthusiasm means the world!

 **Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

 _Rainy Day (A McRoll in the REAL World Story)_

"So much for surfing today," Steve said, entering the kitchen ahead of Cammie where Catherine was putting the last of their late breakfast dishes into the dishwasher.

She nodded to her phone on the counter as their dog went to her water bowl. "Yeah, judging by the radar, it's gonna rain all day."

"Should've gone early, like you said."

"Yeah, but we needed the sleep. It was a long week."

With a grunt, he nodded his agreement. After the active shooter on the docks Monday, Five-0 had picked up a murder case that had continued to rack up bodies, eventually culminating in an island-wide manhunt and arrest late Thursday. Despite the recent holiday, they had all agreed to stay home Friday unless something new came up.

"But it looks like it's going to clear up by tonight," Catherine continued. "So it'll be actually _dry_ for our dry-run at camping with the kids tomorrow."

He nodded.

"So I guess this is our chance to catch up around here," she said, walking over to the pantry. "Put the rest of the holiday stuff away, catch up on laundry. We've got a ton of towels and sheets piled up from having company the last couple weeks."

"Got one more for the pile," he said, motioning to towel on his shoulder that he'd used to dry off Cammie before she came inside. His brow knitted as he watched Catherine searching through the shelves in the pantry. "What are you looking for?"

"I thought we still had some . . ." Her voice trailed off until she suddenly found her quarry. "Aha, here." She stepped back, a bag of chocolate morsels in hand. "Leftover from Kaitlyn, Aaron, and Nonna's holiday baking. I'm gonna make cookies."

"Yeah?" he asked, his tone indicating surprise but not opposition.

"I woke up thinking about 'em. Must have been the rain." She set the bag down on the island and smiled at him. "Mom used to make chocolate chip cookies on rainy days when I was a kid."

He stepped closer and leaned against the island in front of her, his arms folded. "I've had your mom's chocolate chip cookies. They're delicious." With a shrug and a smile, he said, "Okay, I'm in. Your cravings usually work out pretty well for me."

She rolled her eyes in amusement. "I didn't say I was making cookies naked."

His eyes twinkled mischievously. "You didn't say you _weren't_. . ."

"Go start the laundry," she said with a laugh.

He grinned, leaning in to kiss her before heading back out of the kitchen.

A few minutes later, he was back, a load of wash started. Catherine stood at the island, beating softened butter, sugar, and eggs in a bowl. He glanced over to check, but she was still wearing her t-shirt and shorts beneath her apron.

"Well, now I know why you left the butter out at breakfast," he observed.

She gave him a knowing smile, and he opened the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of water and taking a swig. As he drank, he raised his eyebrows at her and pointed to the bottle. She shook her head, and he swallowed, recapping the bottle and replacing it in the fridge. He stepped to the sink and washed his hands quickly, then moved back across from her.

"So, rainy day chocolate chip cookies, huh?" he prompted, resting his forearms down on the island.

She nodded, lifting a smaller bowl with the dry ingredients and adding them gradually to the mixture.

"Yeah, we'd make cookies and do a puzzle or play a game or read together. Something like that."

"Nice memories," he said quietly.

"Yeah."

Catching his eyes, she reached over and squeezed his hand.

He flashed her a small smile and folded his fingers around hers, bending down to kiss her hand before letting it go.

She opened the bag of chocolate morsels and poured them into the bowl. As she stirred, he reached over, pinching a bit of the dough between his thumb and finger and eating it.

"Mary always wanted to eat the dough before the cookies went in the oven," he said. "So I'd create a distraction, and she'd stick her finger in the bowl while–" He stopped and swallowed, looking down. "While Doris wasn't looking." He gave a little chuckle despite the shadow that crossed briefly over his eyes. "She knew, though, of course. She'd wink and give me the spoon before she washed it."

Catherine's smile was sad, and she reached across to touch his forearm. She had stopped stirring when he mentioned his mother's name but now he shook his head, straightening, and the shadow was gone from his face as quickly as it had appeared.

"What can I do?" he asked.

She nodded toward the cabinet above the double oven. "Grab me a couple baking sheets?"

"You got it." He turned and retrieved them, setting both down on the island. "You need to grease 'em?"

She shook her head "No."

He grabbed another spoon from the drawer and copied her motions as she dropped small mounds of dough on the cookie sheet.

She grinned at him. "You just want more spoons to lick when we're done," she said.

"Maybe," he said, grinning back. "Maybe I just want a hand in all aspects of the process."

"Or a finger at least," she said and nodded toward his index finger that was now covered from pushing the dough off the spoon.

Each finished putting a dozen tablespoon-sized mounds on a cookie sheet and placed them in the preheated ovens.

When he moved to lick the dough from his finger, she grabbed his wrist and brought it to her own mouth.

Her eyes held his as she licked it clean.

"Oh, that's not fair at all," he mock-complained with a little groan.

"I'll make it up to you," she said around his finger, holding it between her teeth.

He inhaled sharply. His voice dropped an octave. "I'll hold you to that."

Releasing him, she stepped back, her smile saucy.

He nodded toward the other room and said, "I'm gonna get the boxes for the last of the holiday decorations."

She grinned, motioning to the island where the ingredients and half the cookie dough remained. "I knew you wouldn't last."

"I'll be back for the next batch," he promised and glanced at the timer she'd set on the oven. "Ten minutes."

He detoured to the island, snatching a bit more dough and eating it on his way out of the kitchen.

She laughed. "Keep it up there won't be any more left to bake."

"That'd be a shame," he called over his shoulder, not sounding the least apologetic.

Grinning, she started putting away the ingredients no longer needed.

He took a little longer than intended, and she already had the last of the cookies in the oven when he returned to the kitchen.

"Garland's down," he said. "Just have to get the wall hangings, and we're packed away till next Christmas."

She stepped to the sink with the large mixing bowl, and he moved quickly to intercept.

"Ah ah ah," he said, and his voice dropped again. "My turn."

He set the bowl in the sink and guided her index finger inside. There wasn't much dough left, but he managed to gather a little on her finger and brought it to his mouth. He held her gaze as he closed his lips around it, scraping his teeth lightly against her skin as she slowly withdrew the now clean digit.

His mouth was on hers a split second later, and she wrapped her arms around his neck to bring herself closer. Turning toward the island and shuffling that direction, he lifted her easily and set her on top, plucking at the ties of the apron as he stepped between her legs.

"You know, if you'd have just listened to my suggestion from earlier . . ." he murmured against her lips before pulling the apron off and slipping his hands beneath her shirt, causing her to shiver delightedly.

"Then we never would've gotten any cookies baked," she finished with a knowing smile.

"Untrue," he protested even as he leaned towards her again. "It just would have taken a lot . . ." He punctuated his next words with kisses. "Lot . . . longer."

As they kissed, he pressed her back, though not down to the surface of the island. He leaned them just far enough to snag one of the cooling cookies from the rack behind her, breaking from her lips to take a bite.

He tilted his head as he chewed, looking at her. "Delicious," he said with a smile before diving back toward her lips again.

Ten minutes later, they were kissing leisurely when the oven timer went off.

"Steve . . ." she began, but her next words were swallowed by another kiss. "Mmm . . ." she half sighed half moaned happily, skimming her fingers over his neck and shoulders.

Though slightly disheveled, they were still fully clothed, having enjoyed the relaxed interlude in the kitchen knowing they had all day and didn't need to rush.

The timer continued to sound intermittently for a minute and a half before Catherine finally pulled away. Smiling at him, she pushed on his shoulders so she could hop down and moved toward the oven.

He leaned a hip on the edge of the island and wiped a hand over his grinning mouth as he watched her pull one and then the other cookie sheet from the oven. She set them on trivets on the island and turned to him.

"These got a little dark since I was . . . distracted," she said, smiling.

He shrugged unapologetically. "I'll eat those."

"That's two dozen cookies, Steve," she stated.

"Not all at once."

Her responding laugh was full and merry, and he beamed at the sound.

Stepping closer, she said, "You know what we could do?"

"Yeah, I got an idea," he replied, his arm sliding around her waist.

She chuckled, resting her hands on his biceps. "I bet you do. But I was actually thinking about that puzzle Esther gave us for Christmas. The one with the picture of Cammie."

His brow knit. "Aren't puzzles more of a . . . one person thing?"

"No, not at all," she said, shaking her head. "We can set it up on the dining room table and work on it together."

"What was it, 500 pieces? That's gonna take a while."

"What else are we gonna do?" she asked with a teasing shrug.

He raised his eyebrows.

She smiled. "Oh, we'll do that, too. But . . . after the puzzle."

At his dubious look, she licked her lips slowly and continued, "Think about it . . . the anticipation . . ."

His eyebrow quirked, interested again, and she walked her fingers up his chest as she spoke. "Fitting each . . . piece . . . together, until finally . . ." She rose to her tiptoes, her lips hovering close to his. "The whole picture."

He let out a little snort, and she grinned, giving him a quick peck before settling back flat on her feet.

"What do you say, Commander?" she asked.

He leaned forward and kissed her sweetly. "Whatever you want, Lieutenant."

* * *

"I can't think of the last time I did a jigsaw puzzle," he called from his seat at the dining room table, flipping the last of the pieces right side up. "Maybe a few times when I was a kid."

She came into the room carrying two glasses of milk in one hand and a small plate of cookies in the other.

"Oh, the whole cookies and milk treatment," he said, taking the plate from her so she could set the glasses down.

"Absolutely," she said and sat down beside him.

"It is a nice picture," he said, looking at the photo on the box. Esther had taken a picture of Cammie in the backyard with the ocean behind her, and had it made into a puzzle for them. Her smile when she'd given it to them on Christmas Eve had been as bright as the lights on the tree.

"Such a sweet idea," Catherine said. "Very Esther."

Cammie gave a soft woof at the name of one her favorite people, and Catherine and Steve smiled at her.

Catherine reached over and rubbed the dog's ear. "We're gonna put together a picture of you, pretty girl, what do you think of that?"

Cammie woofed again, her tail wagging.

Steve shifted in his seat, eyeing the pieces on the table. "Well, like I said, it's been a while, but . . . I do remember you're supposed to do the border first."

She gave him an indulgent smile. "Good plan, Commander."

"But before we do that . . ." he said and grabbed a cookie from the plate, breaking it in half and giving her one of the pieces. Smiling at her, he dunked his half in his glass of milk and took a bite. "Now we can start the puzzle."

She smiled back affectionately, dunking her own cookie half, and they set about putting together the border.

Cammie remained by Catherine for a few minutes, seemingly making sure they were settled before wandering over to lie down on her new bolster bed, another gift from Esther, in the living room.

Steve and Catherine continued working on the puzzle, talking companionably and pausing occasionally to see to the laundry. They had a light lunch in the early afternoon before returning to the puzzle with more cookies and milk, both committed to finishing what they started.

At one point, Catherine stretched over to put a piece of the puzzle in place on his other side. As she leaned, her breasts brushed against his arm. He raised his eyebrows, glancing at her chest as she returned to her seat.

"You know we could make this whole thing more interesting," he said leadingly.

She glanced at him, easily reading his expression. "Doing a puzzle naked?"

He shrugged. "It's a thought."

She chuckled, thoroughly amused.

"What?" he said. "I'm comfortable naked, you know that. And I'm _very_ comfortable with you naked."

" 'Comfortable,' " she repeated, smirking. "Among other things."

He tilted his head in acknowledgement.

She smiled. "Maybe next time. For now, I want to concentrate on getting this done."

He leaned closer, speaking low in her ear. "Are you saying you'd have a hard time concentrating if we were–"

"Maybe . . ." she said, her eyes flicking to his. "I know you would."

His eyes widened. "Oh, if that isn't a challenge, I–"

Turning her head, she cut him off with a kiss. "Focus, Commander."

"Focus," he echoed with a nod, a playful look on his face as he watched her turn back to the puzzle. He smiled at the telling flush to her cheeks that he knew was definitely not due to any kind of embarrassment.

They worked for another hour before at last, he put the final piece into place. Sitting back, they surveyed their handiwork.

"So, what did you think of doing your first jigsaw puzzle in years?" she asked.

"Honestly, it's kinda relaxing," he admitted. "Nice. Everything has a place. It all fits together." He glanced at her. "There's a metaphor in there, I'm sure."

She nodded. "The pieces fit together to make a larger whole. That wasn't just innuendo." She smiled at him, then looked back at the puzzle, running her hand over the surface.

His eyes moved around the room, taking in the rain still coming down outside, the empty milk glasses, and the cookie crumbs on the plate yet to be returned to the kitchen. He looked at the completed puzzle on the table with the picture of their wonderful dog staring back at them. And finally he looked at Catherine beside him, smiling happily, and he knew there was no other way he would have wanted to spend the day.

"I love you," he said.

She looked over at him, seeming to read his thoughts, and smiled. "I love you."

Her hand dropped between them, and she interlaced their fingers.

After a moment, her smile turned saucy. "And now . . ."

She rose, turning to him, and he watched her gracefully swing a leg over his. He brought her hand to his shoulder before releasing her fingers and curling his own around her waist as she settled in his lap and leaned down to seal their lips.

"Mmm," he moaned into the kiss and pulled her body closer to his. "Speaking of fitting together . . ."

She raised her arms so he could push her t-shirt up and off, then draped her arms over his shoulders, sighing blissfully as he pressed his lips to the swell of her breasts.

Finding her voice, she ran her fingers through the hair above his ears and asked, "Good rainy day?"

He looked up at her, his smile genuine. "The best," he replied and guided her face to his for another kiss.

* * *

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